


Contest of Wills (Or : Why Team Mustang is no Longer Allowed to Hold Strength Contests)

by Eissel



Series: Reasons Why East HQ was Happy to See Team Mustang Leave [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Crack, East HQ is 100 per cent done with the team's shit, Fuery is a little shit, Fuery was the only one to go through Basic and it shows, Gen, Havoc is the buttmonkey (again), Pre-Canon, Roy is a tiny ball of rage as was proven in the OVA, Seriously tho in EP19 Roy’s fuckin built and we have no idea why or how, Seriously tho tiny Roy was ready to THROW DOWN at any time, Swearing, hint: it goes badly, hinted Royai b/c fuck it, the author did approx. 0 research for this, two idiots decide to have a test of strength
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 18:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eissel/pseuds/Eissel
Summary: In which the eternal question of episode 19 is answered...Where the fuck did Roy get those abs from?





	Contest of Wills (Or : Why Team Mustang is no Longer Allowed to Hold Strength Contests)

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m watching FMA with the family, and we finally got to Ep 19 (before anyone asks, yes, it was all kinds of fun watching them lose their shit over everything that happens in that episode), when I was asked “why does he [Mustang] have abs, he doesn’t do shit”, and I got ~inspired~
> 
> This is sheer, unabashed crack, enjoy!
> 
> HMIC by the way, stands for Head Motherfucker In Charge.

When Kain walks into the office Monday morning, he expects to see a few things: 

  * The Colonel asleep at his desk, the door to his office wide open
  * Hawkeye diligently working with Black Hayate at her side
  * Havoc’s chair upturned because he hadn’t gotten there yet
  * Falman fiddling with the radio to find a good music station
  * And Breda reading the newspaper and cutting out recipes

Just to name a few.

What he _ does not _expect is seeing 3 of his coworkers crowded around in the center of the outer office, hunched over something. 

“Ah, you’re here Master Sergeant.” Hawkeye said from where she was standing over at her desk. “Lock the door behind you.” Kain did as she asked, figuring that if she wasn’t going to put a stop to _ whatever _the hell was going on in the office, he sure as fuck wasn’t going to argue about it. 

He put his bag down on Havoc’s desk, seeing as the man was currently leaning over whatever was so interesting. He walked over to Hawkeye. “Do I want to know?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. 

“It’s a strength contest. Jean struck out last night. _ Again. _ ” Kain stifled a laugh. It was mean, he knew, but Jean’s luck with women _ was _legendarily bad… 

(How bad? Well, people in _ Briggs _knew about it)

“So, they’re competing to see who can lift the most weight? Well, that’d probably go to Havoc, I mean, he _ does _hail from the East.” 

“I think you’d be surprised.” It hit Fuery that Hawkeye was _ smiling, _ not that the act in and of itself was rare, but the fact it was the smile he had internally labeled as _ Smile 57: Confidence that she was about to win a bet. _Kain chuckled to himself, pretending that he wasn’t scared out of his mind. Even the ever stalwart Hawkeye wasn’t immune to a little betting on the side now and then. 

“Who did you place your bet on-” He asked as the trio started to break up. Vato stood to the side, notebook open and pen at the ready. His gray eyes flickered over to where Fuery and Hawkeye stood, a glint in them as they landed on Hawkeye. 

Oh. So this was _ serious. _

The betting rivalry between Vato and Riza had become legendary in Eastern HQ, rivalling the tales of the Elric Brothers, the Colonel’s ability to fall asleep practically anywhere, and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ talent of appearing out of seemingly nowhere to gush about his wife and child if you accidentally made the mistake of talking shit about Investigations, never mind the fact that the man was in Central most of the time, he’d find a way. 

“I placed my bet- 1000 cenz on that note- on the Colonel. The good Warrant Officer has placed his on Second Lieutenant Havoc.” Kain choked. _ 1000 cenz?! _ While, yes, it was petty money for a WO, let alone a 1st Lt like Hawkeye, it was still _ 1000 fucking cenz, _perfectly good money that could be used for any number of things other than this bet! 

“I guess I’ll be joining you in- Wait, where’s Breda?” Fuery suddenly realized that he hadn’t seen the portly Second Lieutenant anywhere since he had come in, and normally he and Havoc were attached to the hip, unless Heymans was off stuffing his face.

“He’s getting the Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and the Elric Brothers. I figured that they’d want to get in on the show too.”

Promptly, the door flew open off of its hinges, and it was a testament to how utterly _ normal _of an event this was that Kain didn’t even bat an eye. 

“Yo! Roy!” The cheerful voice of one Lt. Colonel Hughes called from the entrance. 

“Where the hell is he, I wanna see that bastard get creamed!” Came the voice of Edward Elric, who was probably the one who managed to get the door to fly _ off _ its hinges, and not just ominously creak. He turned to grab a form and pen and write out yet _ another _damage report, when he realized that Hawkeye had already completed one, and was setting it in the Colonel’s To-Do pile. 

Psychic. She was a psychic. 

“I’m right here Fullmetal, though I’m not surprised you didn’t realize it was me. I mean, Amestrian blue uniform, taller than you, could be anyone here really.” And Kain _ was not _ going to call his superior officer out on his own unimpressive height, he was _ not. _ Ed, however, was _ immediately _ set off, despite Alphonse’s pleas for him to calm down, and Fuery leaned back to watch the fireworks fly.

“Oi, Jean, have you already croaked?” Breda’s drawl came from the door. “I have money riding on your pasty Eastern ass.” 

“We haven’t even started yet.” Vato said. “We were waiting for you all to get here.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hughes piped up, flitting over like a child on a sugar high to watch the circus that had been made of the office. “This is a _ weightlifting _ contest?!” Hughes laughed, long and hard, almost doubling over. “Well damn, pardon my Cretian, but holy _ fuck. _ Roy, go easy on the man, _ please, _he already gets his dignity reduced to shreds by you on a bi-weekly basis.”

“What’s _ that _ supposed to mean?!” Jean cried from his position against the desk. Everyone gave him a knowing _ look, _ and the blond hung his head in defeat. The Colonel clapped his hands, making everyone in the immediate vicinity tense up for a second, except for of course, Hawkeye and Hughes, because she was scared of _ nothing, _and he was batshit insane, but then again: Investigations.

“Let’s begin. Havoc, you’re starting off with…?”

“100 pounds.” Hawkeye walked over to fit the weight bar, and placed it on the ground. “Deadlifts right?” 

“Correct.” Vato said. “You’re going to hold it for a minute, drop it before then, and you lose. Hold it for a minute, we add more weight.” Jean grinned savagely. 

“I lift my family’s mini horses like nobody’s business. Sorry Colonel, but I’m beating you in this contest.”

“We’ll see.” With that parting quip, Jean squatted, and lifted the barbell, slowly uncurling. He confidently held it at waist level for the full minute. 

“Ha! Easy! Pile me on!” Hawkeye rolled her eyes, and added a 50 pound weight to either side, dragging the total weight up to 200 pounds. Havoc snorted, and repeated the action. Kain could see his arms twitch slightly as he stood there. Ed groaned. 

“This is a fucking _ pissing _contest, can we just hurry it up already?!” Havoc glared daggers at the young alchemist, who gave him a level glare right back. The staring contest proved inconclusive as Jean slowly set the barbell down. 

“Round 3, you’re doin’ great buddy!” Breda chuckled, slapping Jean on the back. Riza calmly slipped on more 50 pound weights, and was about to set it down when Havoc stopped her. 

“Hawkeye, bring the total to 400.” Hawkeye raised a delicate eyebrow. 

“Are you _ sure _ Lieutenant?” She said it in her _ I’m concerned that you’re about to do something stupid, but if you insist, I won’t stop you _ voice, and Fuery wondered if Havoc had just gotten used to it to care, or was born immune. 

Considering that both the Colonel _ and _Ed were sweating slightly, oh, and Lt. Colonel Hughes was even double checking his pockets, Kain decided that Jean had just gotten a brain injury on the way to the office that morning and would need to be escorted out to the nearest hospital so that he didn’t keel over and die from a hemorrhage or something.

Hawkeye let out a long suffering sigh. 

“Alphonse, could you please go out and ask the front desk to call the hospital and put them on standby?”

“Of course Lieutenant!” The armored boy chirped, and ran out to do exactly that. Riza probably just wanted Al out the room so that he wouldn’t have to watch as Havoc crushed his foot. They all watched (some with more worry than others) as Havoc lifted the bar… 

And promptly dropped it on his foot, causing him to howl in pain and Heymans to howl in laughter. 

Kain shook his head fondly, and stifled another laugh at Jean’s expense. 

“His normal limit is 395 pounds.” Breda explained. “Put that down as his final Falman.” Vato looked slightly put out, but did so. 

“That leaves the Colonel.” Vato muttered. “So, Sir, what will you be starting out with?”

“Probably something like 50 pounds, bastard’s fucking _ tiny. _” Ed muttered as Al walked (clanked) back in. 

“The receptionist said that an ambulance would be here soon… What happened to the Lieutenant?”

“Overestimation.” Hughes said gravely. “Well that, but more directly it was the barbell to the foot.” Al made a little hissing sound which had Fuery wondering how in the ever living _ hell _ a suit of armor could make hissing sounds, but then he remembered that Al was technically a disembodied soul _ attached _ to a piece of metal, and was able to fucking walk, talk, and make goddamn memories, so ** _maybe_ ** he shouldn’t be overthinking it too much. 

Al stared at Havoc with such sheer _ disappointment _radiating off of him, Kain wondered how the blond hadn’t just up and died. 

“Second Lieutenant!” The boy cried out. “You were supposed to uphold the honor of the East!” Jean sputtered, holding his injured foot as he glanced up at Al. 

“Well I’d like to see _ you- _ ” Ed cut him off with a, quite frankly, terrifying glare (for those officers who _ hadn’t _gone through Basic that is), and Jean shut his mouth. 

“Well, that leaves me.” Mustang interrupted, smug smirk already in place. “I just have to beat 400, well, 395 pounds right?” Vato nodded. Breda snorted. 

“No offense Sir, but you are _ literally _5’2. You aren’t lifting 400 pounds anytime soon.” Maybe not, but their dear HMIC was still an alchemist, with all the terrifying creativity that entailed, so Breda was probably going to need to watch his back (and his food) for the next week until the Colonel got distracted by something else. 

Mustang nudged the barbell with his foot, and his eyes flickered over to the office desk they had been crowded around. His smirk warped into a full blown smile, and Al, like the smart boy he was, decided that he wasn’t going to stick around for the consequences of that. 

“Brother, I’m going to go and get lunch.” What a convient excuse too.

Kain wished he’d thought of it.

The armored boy left, and the rest of them waited with bated breath for Mustang to say what he was starting with. 

“Fullmetal.” He began, and Ed turned red, thinking that the Colonel was about to suggest, with a straight face, that he deadlift _ Ed. _ Of course, it was more likely that Mustang was _ really _trying to ask him something, but the mental image of Mustang deadlifting Ed was so funny that Fuery wished Al had stuck around for a few seconds more. “Don’t go on a rant pipsqueak, I have a question.”

“What now Colonel Bastard? Trying to rig this shit?”

“Hawkeye would shoot me before I even had the chance.” Aw, adorable, Riza’s cheeks had gone slightly red at that statement. Then Fuery realized that Hawkeye had _ blushed _ at that statement which let him know _ too much _about his superiors love life, and he'd have to hammer his head against one of the lockers in order to forget. 

From the glint in Hughes’ eye though, Kain knew that he’d be forced to remember in due time. He was just surprised that taller man hadn’t whipped out a camera yet. “Anyways Fullmetal, come here and estimate the weight of the desk for me.” No. There was no fucking way the colonel was about to do what Kain _ thought _he was implying. Ed seemed to think the same. 

“You are not deadlifting a fucking office desk Mustang. You’d break your fucking hands, and then you’d be even more useless than usual.” The colonel simply smiled, and gestured to the desk. Ed trudged over, insulting Mustang under his breath, and evaluated the desk. “It’s about 400 pounds easy, but it’s fucking _ bolted- _” Ed was cut off as Mustang squat down. The golden haired alchemist decided that he had apparently had enough of his CO's bullshit for the day and walked back to the fallen door, plopping down and watching the show.

“Havoc, get ready to _ really _ have a reason to cry.” Mustang quipped as he shoved his hands under the opening, and _ lifted. _ The desk groaned, and Feury _ swore _he felt the floor tremble a little. The colonel grunted a little, and Feury could see the nails ripping themselves out of the floor. 

Ed’s swearing grew louder, and Havoc’s mouth dropped open. Mustang grinned at them (Feury thought he was grinning, it was hard to tell with the fucking desk blocking his face). 

“Looks like I win.” 

“Not yet Roy, you’ve got another 30 seconds to go!” Hughes crowed. 

“Maes, fucking- I am _ not _ going to go to my full limit for a damn pissing contest of a strength test!” The colonel, Fuery knew, was about 132 pounds. Havoc was about 172 pounds. As the colonel proceeded to stand, fairly comfortably from how he was acting, with 400 pounds of wood and other miscellaneous items in his hands, Fuery choked at the idea of lifting _ 3.41 times your own fucking body weight. _

“Urk.” Breda choked out, drawing the attention of Hawkeye. 

“You realized it too?” She asked, humor dancing in her eyes. 

“So that’s why you bet on him… You _ knew! _ How… How _ the hell?! _” His outburst coincided with Ed’s who had zipped over to Mustang’s side. Mustang huffed and set the desk down. 

“I bench the one in my office.” Vato coughed. 

“Sir, you… There is a **_gym_** in the HQ.”

“I know. It’s just that, at the Academy I got used to holding heavy loads. The weights in the gym are nothing compared to that.” Hughes laughed. 

“It’s true! He was 5’2 feet of barely compressed rage and spite back then! He got into fights like _ everyday, _and he took down people a foot taller than him like it was nothing! I always figured they were slipping him steroids, but I snuck some of his food one day, and nothing happened to me!” 

“That’s still _ inhuman. _” Jean muttered. 

“It really isn’t, you just have to consistently train for a while. There are people my height and weight that can comfortably lift 500 pounds. Don’t be a sore loser Havoc.” Everyone in the room (again, except for Hawkeye and Hughes), gave him a skeptical look. Mustang shrugged. “Well, now that that’s been settled, Breda, accompany Havoc to the ambulance, and Falman, you should start pulling files for the military contracted construction companies, we’re going to need repairs.” They nodded dumbly, carrying out their assigned tasks. 

“And me and Fuery?” Ed asked. 

“Fullmetal, I have a mission for you, just wait in the office. Fuery… take the day off.” Kain perked up at this. 

“Oh! Thanks Sir!” He grinned, and grabbed his bag, which had stayed miraculously unscathed. _ Score! _He had successfully gotten out of work, even if he wouldn’t be seeing any money from it… 

As he headed out of the HQ, he paused to watch the organized chaos in the lobby as people were making noise complaints, and the ambulance was trying to load Havoc into the back. 

"Just another day at Eastern…" He laughed to himself, and headed out, ready to enjoy his impromptu day off. 


End file.
